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Tuesday, July 12, 2011

One of the most spectacular summer attractions in far Northern California has got to be Mount Shasta Lavender Farms. It’s open only in June and July to coincide with the lavender bloom, but if you happen to be in the Mount Shasta area during that time, be sure to visit.

Mount Shasta Lavender Farms is located in the high desert north of Mount Shasta and east of Weed. The private drive off Harry Cash Road climbs up a steep hillside for a few miles until you reach the parking lot. The view will knock your socks off. In front of you is 14,167 ft. Mount Shasta, a massive shield volcano that is the dominant landmark in this part of California. To the right, at less than half the height of Mount Shasta, is Black Butte, the cinder cone so familiar to travelers on Interstate 5. Further to the west is the snow-covered peak of Mount Eddy, at 9,025 ft. the tallest peak in the Trinity Mountains. In my opinion, this is most impressive view of Mount Shasta because you can see it in its topographical context.

Panoramic view from Mount Shasta Lavender Farms

By most people’s definition, Mount Shasta Lavender Farm is located in the middle of nowhere. From Weed, the sleepy town with the unforgettable name on Interstate 5, it’s a 25 minute drive east, first on Highway 97 and then on County Road A12. This area of Northern California is sparsely populated and, because of the arid climate, its natural vegetation is sparse as well. A desert rat at heart, I love the silence and remoteness of this place.

Mount Shasta Lavender Farms is located on a sunny slope high above Shasta Valley at an elevation of 3,500 ft..

Mount Shasta Lavender Farms grows two kinds of lavender: English and French. The English lavender (Lavandula angustifolia) was blooming profusely, maybe a week away from its peak. I’d say ⅔ of the fields are planted in English lavender, the rest is French lavender (presumably Lavandula dentata) which hadn’t started to bloom yet.

The lavender is grown for oil, cut flowers, dried lavender products, and also for culinary use. Most of the products sold in the gift shop are made right here on the premises, including ethereal oil, soap, sachets, etc. Lavender-scented candles are made in Redding, 1½ hours to the south.

Rows of English lavender

Looks just like the ‘Hidcote’ lavender in our garden

Visitor cutting lavender

Juniper tree at the end of a lavender field

Juniper trees in the middle of a field of French lavender (not in bloom yet), with a row of blooming English lavender in the foreground

Lavender rows forming interesting patterns

Rock marking the center of the lavender maze

Cut English lavender

I remember visiting Mount Shasta Lavender Farms for the first time when our now 13-year old daughter was in first grade. It had only been in operation for a couple of years at the time and hardly anybody knew about it. They have done a tremendous amount of work since then, adding more fields and building a stunning gift shop that looks like it came straight from Tuscany (see photo below). I was glad to see that the parking lot was almost full this morning and that people were spending money in the gift shop. Mount Shasta Lavender Farms is such a unique place that I want it to stay open to the public for many more years to come.

This year the season at Mount Shasta Lavender Farms runs until July 31st. They are open every day from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Do not miss this one-of-a-kind attraction. It’s worth a detour if you happen to drive north or south on Interstate 5.

Before leaving, one last look at a view I’ll never get tired of

Plug for one of my favorite landscape photographers, Roman Loranc, now based in Weed: If you love black-and-white photography, check out this photo taken at Mount Shasta Lavender Farm. The gift shop had a 16x20” print on display, and it took my breath away. Just like Mount Shasta Lavender Farm is a must-see destination, Roman Loranc’s photographs are must-see works of art.

A few years ago, San Francisco PBS station KQED produced a segment on Roman Loranc’s work in the Consumnes River Preserve south of Sacramento. Click here to view it.

Monday, July 11, 2011

My very first post on this blog was about transplanting a black bamboo (Phyllostachys nigra ‘Punctata’) from a half wine barrel into the ground at my parents-in-law’s property in Mount Shasta, CA. Since then, we’ve added more bamboos, and I’ve repeatedly posted updates (at Thanksgiving, at Christmas, and at Easter).

At 14,179 feet, Mount Shasta is one of the highest mountains in California

Every time we visit, I look forward to checking out the progress the bamboos have made. Most of them were fairly small when planted so I know that patience is required, but I’m still eager to see how everything is doing.

My favorite of all the bamboos we’ve planted in what we jokingly call “Experimental Bamboo Garden North” is Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’. It made it through the winter with flying colors and I had high hopes for this year’s shooting season, expecting culms well in excess of 1” in diameter. You can imagine how distraught I was when my mother-in-law told me about six weeks ago that the leaves were turning yellow and the plant was looking like it was dying. After some initial puzzlement we identified the culprits: furry critters digging tunnels and eating the roots. The bamboo clump was surrounded by mole tunnels which most likely provided easy access to voles—which in turn chomped on the roots. Garden blogger Alan of It’s Not Work, It’s Gardening described this problem in a recent post.

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’

My in-laws felt terrible about the impending loss of this beautiful plant. I told them to be patient because bamboo is known for its resilience and will to live. After we arrived yesterday I checked the culms and much to my—and everyone else’s—surprise I found new leaves forming in many spots. They’re still small but they’re an unmistakable sign of life. With continued watering and TLC, the plant should make a full recovery provided the voles stay clear of the roots. If anybody has any tips on how to prevent this from happening again, I’d be happy to hear about your experience.

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’, new leaves forming

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’, new leaves forming

Phyllostachys vivax ‘Aureocaulis’, new leaves forming

The black bamboo we transplanted last October produced a plethora of new shoots this spring: I counted 10, which doubles the number of culms it already had. The tallest approaches 6 feet, so hopefully we’ll top 10 feet next year.

Phyllostachys nigra ‘Punctata’

Phyllostachys nigra ‘Punctata’, four of the new culms

The next bamboo is a Chusquea gigantea from South America. Planted last September, it suffered an initial setback when the watering hose running to it got disconnected for a few weeks. A few culms died as a result, but most survived. This spring it produced two new culms, the thickest of which is close to ½". The branches grow in whorls around the culm, with one branch significantly longer than the others. While technically a clumping bamboo, the clump is very open, with individual culms spaced as much as a foot apart.

While the specimen in my in-laws’ yard doesn’t look like much at the moment, my hope is that it will one day resemble this.

Chusquea gigantea

Chusquea gigantea, new whorl of branches

Two fargesias survived their first winter even though they were planted just weeks before the first snow as 1-gallon tissue culture plants. Fargesiadracocephala ‘Rufa’ wasn’t fazed by the months of freezing temperatures while Fargesia denudata lost all its leaves but quickly grew them back in the spring. These two species should prove to be stellar performers in Mount Shasta’s zone 7 climate.

Fargesiadracocephala ‘Rufa’

Fargesia denudata (never mind the weeds)

Shown in the next two photos, Phyllostachys bissetii is blending in with the wildflowers. Planted last fall as a 1-gallon tissue culture plant from Boo-Shoot Gardens, it produced 4-5 new shoots this spring but they’re wispy and barely 3 feet tall. However, in another year or two it should begin to dominate this area of the backyard.

Phyllostachys bissetii

Phyllostachys bissetii—look for the plant tag in the middle of the photo

The next bamboo was planted just this April. It’s a Phyllostachys nigra ‘Henon’, and its first culm of the year is now 6 feet tall and still growing. It’s pretty thin, though, so it’s leaning over. This is also a plant that will require a few years to show its real beauty. A ‘Henon’ grove in this spot could be a real attention-getter as it will be visible from the street.

Phyllostachys nigra ‘Henon’

The last photo is of the largest bamboo we’ve planted at my in-laws to date. It’s a stone bamboo (Phyllostachys angusta) that came in a 25-gallon container. As far as I can tell, it hasn’t started to shoot yet but when it does, it should produce 15+ ft. culms of 1-1½“ in diameter.

Phyllostachys angusta

Bamboos are long-lived plants capable of extraordinary beauty, but they do require patience in the first few years. As slow as progress may seem initially, you will see results much faster than with trees and other landscaping plants that fill a similar niche in the garden.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

We arrived at my in-laws in Mount Shasta, CA yesterday afternoon, and as I was walking around in their backyard, one plant caught my eye right away.

In one area of the yard, there is an ocean of seed heads that glow like ethereal lights when backlit by the late afternoon sun. At first glance they look a little like dandelions on steroids, but with perfectly round heads. Looking closer, you begin to see the individual seeds symmetrically arranged around a central spoke. The seeds, technically dry fruits called achenes, have a number of delicate-looking feathery bristles called pappus that help them drift more efficiently on the wind.

These seed heads are so beautiful that you’d expect them to come from an equally beautiful plant. That’s definitely not the case here. The plant is a plain-looking non-native weed called Tragopogon dubius, about 2 feet tall. An import from Europe, it has many different common names, including western salsify, yellow goat’s beard, or just goat’s beard. My in-laws call it “milkweed” although it is not related to the real milkweeds (Asclepias).

Actually, the flower, about 2 inches across, is quite handsome up close. While Tragopogon dubius is not closely related to dandelions (Taraxacum officinale), they’re both in the aster family (Asteraceae) and share general similarities.

If it weren’t for the fantastic seed heads, nobody would be paying much attention to the plant. But while they last, the seed heads are a sight to see, especially backlit and up close. Who would have thought that a lowly weed but be the source of so much beauty!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

I’ve been collecting these photos of our front yard for a couple of weeks now, and I’d better post them before everything starts to wither under the relentless summer sun.

While I’m happy to show these photos to everybody who’s following this blog, my main goal with this type of post is to create a visual reference of our garden so I can go back later to see what it looked like at a specific point in time. I find it enormously helpful being able to gauge progress by comparing photos taken at the same time each year.

If you aren’t taking photos of your own garden already, I highly recommend it. It’s never too late to start your own photo diary.

Two maiden grasses in the background (Miscanthus sinensis 'Rigoletto' on the left and Miscanthus sinensis 'Super Stripe' on the right). In the foreground: Stokesia laevis ‘Klaus Jelitto’, Echinacea x ‘Hot Papaya’, and pink rain lily (Zephyranthes grandiflora).

Canna indica in bloom. What a hummingbird magnet! I started these from seed a few years ago, but unfortunately I can’t remember which species they are.

Sago palm (Cycas revoluta) producing its annual flush of leaves.

This specimen is about 13 years old. It was in perfect condition until some of the leaves started to scorch in our recent heat wave. Like humans, plants got used to the mild spring weather that lasted much longer than usual this year.

Sago palm (Cycas revoluta) on the left, lion’s tail (Leonotis leonurus) on the right

Purple fountain grass (Pennisetum setaceum 'Rubrum') in a glazed pot that holds open the gate to the front yard

Raised bed with tropical foliage plants. I’m not 100% happy with this area. The Kahili gingers (Hedychium gardnerianum) on the right are taking over. I think I will thin them out in the fall and plant another giant elephant ear to complement the one on the left (it’s an Alocasia macrorrhiza ‘Borneo Giant’).

Giant elephant ear leaf (Alocasia macrorrhiza ‘Borneo Giant’). This is the first leaf it produced this spring (it has two others now) and it’s getting a bit yellow around the edges.

Silver Lady fern (Blechnum gibbum). This is a frost-sensitive tropical fern that eventually will grow a short trunk—at least in theory. In our garden it gets knocked back every year by the frost but does come roaring back once the weather warms up in spring.

After the ‘Mojito’ I bought on the weekend, this is my favorite elephant ear cultivar: Colocasia esculenta ‘Elepaio’, named after the Hawaiian monarch flycatcher. Each leaf is unique, but this one is particularly stunning. I’ve read that it used to be so rare that only Hawaiian royalty had access to it. Thanks to modern technology (i.e. tissue culture), even non-royals like us can now buy it. For me it’s only about 2 ft. tall and hence a good understory plant underneath the Kahili gingers I mentioned above.

Here’s another photo of an ‘Elepaio’ leaf. Most of them look like this one.